


Midgardian Entertainment, or How Thor Discovered Wrestling

by stareyednight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen, Like a vortex, Television Watching, Wrestling sucks you in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stareyednight/pseuds/stareyednight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor discovers a new type of Midgardian entertainment! Clint is happy to share it with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midgardian Entertainment, or How Thor Discovered Wrestling

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to know anything about wrestling/WWE to read this, but I hope that if you do you enjoy!

Clint was working up a good one-sided conversation with the tv, half cheering half yelling, when Thor came out of the kitchen, box of PopTarts in one hand. He was clearly fresh from the gym, but he looked puzzled.

“Clint, are you watching some sport that I know not of? When we have watched the different balls, foot-, base- and basket-, there has not been such a dialogue. Truly, did this man steal the affections of the woman and now there is a duel of some kind?”

Clint stopped and just blinked at Thor. “Uh... Yes?” 

“Wonderful! I did not know Midgardians had such a thing. Can you then explain how the duel shall take place?”

Clint looked over at Coulson, sitting unnoticed by Thor until that moment. He was sitting with paperwork on his lap, but his tie was draped over the back of the couch with his jacket, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

“Sure,” Clint said. “Actually, yeah, sit down. You're going to love this. It's called wrestling-”

“Ah! We have such a thing in Asgard. Part of our training as warriors included grappling and wrestling.”

“Probably not quite like this, big guy. So, they get in the ring and have to pin the other guy for a count of three. But, this guy, his name is John Cena, he has to make sure the other guy, Ziggler, doesn't cheat and use his girl or his friends to help.”

“Why would he cheat in a sporting contest?” Thor looked puzzled as he chewed on a Frosted Strawberry PopTart.

“Because he's the bad guy,” Clint explained. “We pretty much expect him to cheat.” He settled back as the entrances started and Thor watched.

When the first back and forth sequence finished, Thor turned to Clint. “I am unfamiliar with this sort of wrestling. Why does he not just pin him down now? Why does the pink one preen and speak to the crowd?”

“We-ell..”

“Clint.” Coulson gave him a look. “Just tell him.”

“But, I wanted to see if-!”

“No.” Coulson turned to Thor. “It's not real fighting. It's like a show. The match has a decided outcome and finish and a story to keep the audience engaged.”

A look of comprehension dawned on Thor's face. “Ah! I see. Entertainment! But, on Asgard this would be conveyed with puppets perhaps, for the children.” 

Clint choked back a laugh and nodded. “Sure, but on Midgard, it's for everyone. A lot of people started watching as kids and keep watching now. I mean, Phil watched it as a kid, and I did.”

Thor looked expectantly at Coulson, who shuffled his papers and cleared his throat. “True, but I stopped watching when I graduated from high school,” he said pointedly.

Clint just grinned. “I never graduated from high school, so I just never stopped watching. And now you watch with me.”

“Yes, but only because I like to know what you're talking about on occasion.”

“Yeah right. Who is loving Kane and Daniel Bryan with the tag belts?”

Coulson's mouth twitched up the corner as he ignored Clint and went back to his paperwork, but his eyes flicked up the screen every once in a while.

Clint turned back to the screen, but his leg stretched out to nudge against Coulson's while they watched on. He explained things to Thor every once in a while, but Thor seemed to be catching on. Might have been the Norwegian soaps that seemed to be on the DVR every week, and when the tiny brunette on screen reached across and slapped the good guy, Thor reacted as required.

“What! Why does she involve herself? Is that not cheating?”

Clint laughed. “Yeah, but if the referee doesn't see it, he can't call it. See how Ziggler was distracting the ref so AJ could get him? Tactics, my friend. Sneaky tactics.”

Thor grumbled and crossed his arms. “It does not seem sporting. The John Cena seems to be an honourable warrior if what you say is so. Much like the fair Baldur!”

“Sure... But, anyway, it makes you want to see him beat Ziggler more, doesn't it?”

“Well, yes, as I am sure he would be victorious in a fair fight!”

“Then they're doing a good job, right?” Clint gestured with the remote. “You want to see more.”

“I do, my friend. Please, let us continue.”

Twenty minutes later, Tony walked in to find Thor staring at the screen as Clint grinned, delighted.

“What _are_ you watching?”

“Wrestling. Now, shh, I want to hear this.” Clint flapped a hand at Tony and turned the volume up as the wrestler with the microphone continued to extol his virtues as best in the world.

“What the hell. Wrestling? You know it's all fake, right?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Duh. So's Star Wars. Doesn't stop you making us watch it last week.”

“Please, Tony. I would like to hear more from the Punk. He speaks eloquently, though I do not understand why he must then insult the hometown of the crowd?”

“Cheap heat,” Clint muttered and Coulson smiled down at his papers.

Tony just shook his head and left, tossing a grease-stained rag over his shoulder as he muttered disparagingly about Middle America.

“He's my favourite,” Clint said to Thor, gesturing at the wrestler leaving the ring, accompanied by another man, who held his belt aloft. Clint had already explained the belts and championships and champions.

“The one called Punk?”

“CM Punk, yeah. I mean, he's cocky, has a smart mouth and thinks he's the best in the world. Sound like anyone you know? Plus, he goes everywhere with a guy in a suit.” He turned to smile fondly at Coulson.

“I'll let Sitwell know you think he's a walrus,” Coulson said evenly.

“I meant you, babe.”

“So you think _I'm_ a walrus.” Coulson lifted one eyebrow and Clint rolled his eyes.

“I think you should just give up on the paperwork and watch the match. Otherwise you're going to turn in another form with Brad Maddox written in the middle somewhere.”

“That happened once,” Coulson protested, but he set his pen on the coffee table with the other forms and leaned back into the couch. Clint slid a little more towards him.

“That we know of. I bet someone's trying to track down an agent or source named Brad Maddox and is terrified to tell you.”

“Just watch the sweaty men hit each other.”

“Yessir.”

“Clint, I am unsure why the small man is yelling 'No' so emphatically. Does he not wish to be in this fight?”

“Uh... No? It's sort of a long story. He used to yell 'Yes', and then he lost the championship and his girl left - hey it's the girl from earlier, actually, who slapped John Cena.”

“She moved to the pink one from the goat one? After the John Cena?”

“Well, there was a time when she was going after Kane there, too. And CM Punk. She's, well, she's not having great luck right now.”

“Like when Yanni left Dagfinn to find love with Dagfinn's twin brother on Hotel Caesar! I see.” Thor nodded sagely and turned back to the action on screen.

Steve wandered in a few minutes later with a towel around his neck. “Hey, what are you fellas watching?”

“Steve!” Thor boomed. “You must see this. It is a series of sporting contests wherein they fight for the enjoyment of the audience, and for belts of gold! There is honour and betrayal and beautiful women.”

“Wrestling,” said Clint. “Wouldn't you have seen this stuff back in your day?”

“Wrestling in America died out after the Great Depression and really only came back into prominence in the late 1940s with the advent of the National Wrestling Alliance,” Coulson answered, almost absently, and the other three turned to stare at him.

“Huh. I don't think even I knew you knew that,” Clint said and Coulson shrugged.

“I was thorough, even as a child.”

“There you go,” Steve said, as he moved to sit on the arm of the couch. “Although, I doubt it looked like that back then. Did he even hit him? That looks an awful lot like when I punched Hitler every night.”

“Yet another reason to love our fair century, hey?” Clint grinned at him. “Oh, hey, do you think Natasha could do that?” They watched a particularly acrobatic move in the slow motion replay.

“If anyone could, it would be her,” Steve replied.

“What would be me?”

Four heads snapped around to see Natasha standing behind Steve, drinking casually from a bottle of water. She was also in her workout gear, faintly damp around the hairline.

“I'm going to put a bell on you,” Clint groused and Natasha raised a challenging eyebrow. “Anyway, Trouble in Paradise. Yes or no?”

She moved to sit on the arm of the other couch. “Yes, but highly ineffective in actual fighting.” The _you idiot_ was mostly implied.

“You also watch this entertainment?” Thor asked curiously.

“Barely. Hard to avoid when living around Clint sometimes, and the sweaty men can be... appealing.” Just for fun, she flicked a look at Steve, who flushed.

Tony walked back in and threw his arms up. “Now there are more of you? Did you all take a hit to the head yesterday? Why are you watching this?” He turned to Bruce, who had come in with him. “Please don't tell me you like this trash, too.”

Bruce grimaced. “No, it's not my sort of thing. Never been one for watching people get hurt.”

“Thank you! Now, Bruce and I are going to take our genius brains back to the lab and work on things like bettering humanity and making explosions.” Tony turned on his heel and Bruce gave the room a shrug and an eyeroll and followed him.

The rest of them stayed to watch the remainder of the show, Natasha idly flipping through a magazine as she and Clint passed judgement on technique and Thor asked questions about the wrestlers and the drama. When it finished, Clint stretched and looked around.

“Man, I haven't had this much fun watching in a long time. Thor, you are most welcome to join me every week. You, too, Steve. Wait til you see the Divas.”

“I would be most honoured, Clint,” Thor replied, brushing PopTart crumbs off as he stood up. “I am most interested in seeing the result of this feud between Cena and Ziggler and the lovely, yet slightly mad AJ. I have no fear that goodness shall triumph!”

“Hey, yeah, great. And, the Royal Rumble's coming up, which is Phil's favourite, so you can come watch, too. Avenging permitting,” Clint said to Steve, who nodded.

“Sounds like a good time to me. Hey, I'm going to go see what's around the place for dinner. Might even see if we can't get a meal into Tony. You guys eating with us?”

Clint looked at Coulson, they had a conversation with a look and an eyebrow and Clint nodded. “Yeah, sure, we're in.”

Natasha stood as well. “Can we try to avoid Thai again?” she asked Steve as they headed towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, Clint,” Thor said, smiling happily. “It was most kind of you to take the time to teach me more again about Midgardian culture and to show me your favourite program.”

“Anytime, big guy. I'm happy to spread the wrestling love. The more the merrier, really.”

“I shall then see you at dinner. Son of Coul,” Thor inclined his head and Coulson nodded back before Thor strode towards the elevator.

“I don't have a favourite Pay-Per-View,” Coulson objected as he started to gather his papers into a file.

“Yes, you do. Don't think I don't know about your spreadsheets and averaging,” Clint teased. “You like the numbers. All the times, the stats. Come on, baby, talk Rumble to me.”

Coulson shook his head fondly. “The Warlord's two second record stood until 2009 when it was broken by Santino Marella.”

“Mmm, that's the stuff.” Clint leaned over and pressed his nose against Coulson's neck.

Coulson chuckled. “Rey Mysterio holds the record for longest entry with 62 minutes, twelve seconds.”

“No, you animal, stop!” Clint tried to go for a tackle, but missed as Coulson stood up. “I can't be held accountable for my actions if you keep going.”

Coulson laughed outright as Clint stood up and followed him to the elevator. “Well, then, after dinner, if you're very good, I'll bring out the DVDs.”

“And this is why I love you.”


End file.
